


The Measure of a Man

by TeriH



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 13:33:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18639127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeriH/pseuds/TeriH
Summary: Originally written in 2007One Day Out West from Ezra's POV





	1. Chapter 1

Ezra Standish was behind bars, a place he had sworn never to dwell again. The cell door closed with a resounding clang of metal as the lock fell into place. The Judge turned, headed toward the door and tossed the cell keys to J.D. with the directive, “They try to escape . . . shoot them.”

Shoot me indeed! It seemed a rather harsh statement, even though the last time the two had met, Ezra had opted to jump bail rather than face the good judge in court. Standish noted that at least Dunne had the decency to look stunned by the unreasonable command, so maybe there was hope yet, “Well, sir now that we are rid of that loathsome curmudgeon you may effect my emancipation.”

“Huh?” J. D. responded with a look of confusion, brows drawing together.

“Let me out.” Ezra tried more concisely.

“Oh. Uh, nothing personal, Ezra. I can’t.” J.D. answered sincerely. “Just doing my job.” With that, J.D. turned to examine the trappings of his new position as town sheriff.

The tread of boots on the board walk announced the imminent arrival of Buck Wilmington, and soon the generally jovial man stormed into the room. Yes, another chance. “Ah, Mr. Wilmington. At last, someone of maturity to end my ordeal.”

“Yeah, right.” Wilmington barely spared him a glance before turning to J.D. “What’s wrong with you, son” Bartender said . . . “

Walking to the cot that served as both seat and bed in this establishment Ezra tuned out what was sure to be an ongoing debate. Ezra sat on the seeming clean quilt and lay back covering his face with his hat as he contemplated just where everything had gone so wrong.

Lady luck seemed to have turned against him. What were the chances that one Judge Orin Travis would appear in this dusty little backwater town? The same Judge Travis with whom he had past ‘business’ in Fort Laramie . Standish was uncertain when he had last felt so drained, both emotionally and physically.

Ezra berated himself for not riding away after the episode at the Indian Village . He had left nothing here that he couldn’t replace. But no, he had ridden back into the town of Four Corners with his fellow compatriots and even backed Larabee’s support of the Honorable Judge Travis. At that point an intelligent man would have left town ad turned his back on these new acquaintances, but the thought of just one drink and shared camaraderie after the long, hot, dusty ride had beckoned . . . and look where that got him. Incarcerated. Not only incarcerated but in a cell next to the cretin he had helped lock up. Lady luck was definitely laughing at one Ezra P. Standish today.

A crash interrupted Ezra’s musings and he looked to where Buck leaned over a rather large desk looking down at J.D. who was currently lying on the floor behind said desk, still in his chair.

“You all right down there? Don’t get up.” Buck continued his rant, sparing a glance in Ezra direction. “That’s good. . . Sheriff. You have a good day now, Sheriff. I’ll find my own way out.” Wilmington exited as quickly as he had arrived.

Standish chuckled as he watched the new sheriff picked himself up off the floor before allowing his hat to fall back over his face and to return to his musings. New sheriff, what was the chance. It was bad enough when the Judge walked into the saloon, but for J.D. to take the offered job of sheriff. Ezra had done his best to blend into his surrounding, but J.D. was anxious to share the news with his new friend never realizing he was drawing unwanted attention to said friend. Perhaps I should discuss the art of subtlety with the boy. Learning to discern the cues of both associate and foe may well keep the young man alive. Was I ever such an innocent?

Standish remembered the look of shock on J.D.’s face when the Judge accused him of jumping bail. It was a look he would never forget. If Ezra was honest with himself, J.D.’s lack of trust had hurt. They had faced down Colonel Anderson and his men, looked death in the eye. That had to count for something. Yet J.D. had a firm belief in right and wrong, and Travis knowledge of his rig and derringer drove the last nail into the proverbial coffin. The look on young Mr. Dunne’s face had resembled that of a ‘kicked puppy’. When J.D. took his gun, Ezra saw the look of disappointment in the young man’s eyes. He actually felt he had let the boy down in some way and in that moment he was afraid that same look was mirrored on his own face. When given the choice, Ezra had chosen these men over self-preservation, gone against all his instincts and look where it had gotten him.

Buck’s indifference upon entering the jail that he could live with. It was what he had come to expect. It was what he had received from Maude his whole life.

If his mother had taught him nothing else she had instilled in him the survival instinct, to depend on no one but self to get by in life. That lesson had saved him on more than one occasion . . . that and his trusty derringer.

~~~~~~~

The evening had drug on for the gambler. Being a night owl didn't necessarily work well with his current living arrangement. Part of his evening had been spent watching J.D. leaf through the wanted posters he found thrown in a desk drawer. Perusing the leaflets and memorizing the faces, most likely on the chance that one of the desperadoes might happen to cross his path. I think our Mr. Wilmington would not be amused.Remembering Buck's tirade of the day before, Standish had to wonder if anyone had ever worried that much about his well being.

It wasn't that he had been expecting visitors, though the interruption would have been welcome. Josiah Sanchez was most likely in the care of Nathan Jackson. Standish had liked the gentle giant and hoped his injury was on the mend. Hope he’s finding a way to keep his ‘crows’ at bay. He found Josiah easy to talk to. How else could the loaner explain having confessed his stint 'preaching the word' and conning the believers out of their hard earned money. Sanchez had not been judgmental, only saying rather ambiguously, ‘Yup. Saving souls has its hazards’. The man is truly an enigma.

Then there was the healer, Jackson. Standish would be the first to admit that theirs had been a rocky start. Spending your informative years in Dixie left its mark.

Ezra’s thoughts drifted back in time . . . Beauregard Devereux, step-father number two, was an ostentatious and portentous man. He had owned a cotton plantation along with all the ‘stock’ and had assigned Ezra his own ‘whipping boy’. A family practice that could be traced back to the ancestral home in Europe the man was proud to point out. Ezra had seen a young man of color, a few years older than himself and his first thoughts had been of friendship. To his dismay he discovered that the young man was to receive ‘his’ punishment should Ezra misbehave. A heavy burden for a youngster to bear. While Ezra had managed to stay out of trouble, the same could not be said for Trey Devereux., heir apparent. The young man was malicious and vindictive, getting enjoyment out of the pain of others and his whipping boy bore the scars to prove it. Upon seeing mah horror the first time mah proxy was punished in mah stead, he made mah life pure hell! Trey had gone out of his way to instigate trouble laying all the blame on his younger step-brother and taking pleasure out of watching Ezra’s reactions as his surrogate was punished. While ah did nothing! Luckily Maude soon bored of the life and they had moved on, but the shame he carried always.

The past was not something he dwelt on, but when he looked at Nathan Jackson that day in the saloon he had not seen the man, but the color of his skin allowing his past to influence his reaction. Not something that he was exactly proud of. Nathan had proven to be the better man and Ezra liked to think they had worked through their issues and if not friends yet, well at least the foundation was in place.

‘Friends’ it was a foreign concept. What would Mutha say if she knew? Those days at the Indian village were the first time that Ezra could remember feeling part of a group, not an outsider looking in but a contributing member. Now knowing exactly what he was missing. . . Ezra wasn’t sure he had ever felt so alone. Of course, realistically, neither man probably knew he had been incarcerated. Perhaps if they had . . .

He wasn’t sure how long he had lain there lost in his memories when he heard the door to the jail open. Ah, the melodious voice of an angel of mercy come to bring sustenance to the condemned. His lips quirked in what might have passes for a smile, had his face not remained obscured by his hat, blocking out the morning sun.

Sitting up, Standish moved to retrieve the plate of food which had been deposited in his cell. Returning to his cot he scrutinized the rather questionable offering, lifting a bite of the proffered fare to see if it perhaps smelled more inviting than it appeared. Why is it that meals partaken from the comforts of a jail cell all smell remarkably the same? Returning the untouched portion to the plate, he sat the offending offering down.

“Ah see you are likewise disenchanted by this establishment’s fine cuisine,” Standish commented to his fellow inmate, noting that the man had not even bothered to retrieve his plate.

“I’ll eat when I get out,” Lucas James replied, slumped down on the cot in the neighboring cell.

Reaching for an old ‘friend’ Ezra’s fingers wrapped around the deck of cards, his one sure companion, “Leaving so soon?” He feigned disinterest yet his body hummed with tension as he awaited the reply.

“Soon as my boys get here,” was the cocky retort.

“I see.” Ezra allowed the cards to slide through his nimble fingers, contemplating his options. “Can I interest you in a game of chance?”

“What’re your stakes?” James queried.

“Well, let’s just say that . . . if I win, and your associates succeed in releasing you, you might just forget to lock the door behind you.” Ezra deadpanned, while single-handedly causing the queen of clubs to dance lithely to the bottom of the deck.

Lucas appeared amused and chuckled softly, “And if I win?”

The bait had been taken. Standish allowed a smile to brush across his face, “You can kill me.”

~~~~~~~

Time passed quickly as Ezra and Lucas conversed over their game of cards. Ezra had met men like Lucas James numerous times in his travels. Men who had been raised with a silver spoon yet felt they were owed more and didn’t care who they trampled to achieve their goal. Hell, they were Mutha’s favorite ‘mark’. It seemed Maude found it easy to justify conning such men. But even she would not condone the killing of innocents.

Ezra pulled his mind back to the card game at hand. He had allowed James to win often enough to keep the man talking, while still coming out the ultimate winner. If Lucas’ men were coming and Ezra had no doubt they were . . . well it never hurt to keep one’s options open.

The two men heard the sound of angry voices in front of the jail before the door was pulled the closed. The voices while muffled could still be discerned as a man yelled, “Come on, he won’t shoot us!”

The report of a rifle echoed through the building, then Ezra though he heard Vin Tanner’s soft twang. “Ya got a problem here, Sheriff?”

Ezra let out the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. Perhaps Mr. Wilmington is not the only one worrying about the safety of our young sheriff. When had he allowed these men to his creep past his long-standing barriers?

Silence reigned outside and soon the door opened and the long-haired tracker slid quietly into the room. “Ez.”

Vin Tanner moved with grace of a sleek cat as he crossed the room and came to a stop in front of Standish’ cell.

“Mr. Tanner, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Chris ‘n I’s fixin’ ta leave.”

“So soon? You wish to leave this charming little metropolis. I myself have found the hospitality afforded to be hard to resist. You might say I have found it captivating.”

“Reckon you would at that.” A twinkle touched the trackers eyes, and a smile quirked his lips then quickly disappeared. “I was proud ta ride with ya, Ez. Yer a good man,” Vin said softly.

“I have been accused of many things, Mr. Tanner, but being ‘good’ was never one of them.” The irony clear in his tone.

Ezra pulled himself out of the pensive mood. A half smile touched the gamblers face and the glint of a gold tooth could be seen if only for a moment. “Might I interest you in a game of chance, Mr. Tanner?”

“Told Chris I’d meet him in the livery, best be goin’”

“Yes, it would be best to not keep Mr. Larabee waiting. He is not a patient man,” Ezra commented, attempting to keep the hurt from his tone. He thrust his hand through the bars of the cell and watched as Vin grasped the offering giving it a firm shake before relinquishing the touch and turning to move toward the jail door.

Standish watched in a haze as the trackers hand grasped the knob and pulled the door open. Ezra heard a voice and was shocked to realize it was his own. “Watch your back, Vin.”

Tanner turned and winked, “Ya kin watch my back any day, Ez.” Then the man was gone.

In that moment Ezra knew without a doubt. He was certain. He knows!


	2. The Story Continues

A rather distracted J.D. entered the jail as the distinct ping of raindrops was heard on the tin roof. He grabbed the keys and a set of shackles and moved toward Lucas’ cell. ”Judge wants you at the saloon.”

With little fight, Lucas allowed the shackles to be locked in places and soon the jail door closed behind J.D. and his prisoner. Standish listened as the cadence of their boots on the wooden walk was soon eclipsed by the sound of the falling rain.

Ezra sat on his cot in the now empty jail, leaning against the brick wall. His mind was not on the cards that flew through his nimble fingers as he shuffled automatically. It was as natural to the man as breathing and took as little thought. Rather he stared at the cell door oblivious to the rain now falling in sheets just beyond the sanctuary of the jail.

A simple lock. It would take less than a minute, seconds actually and he could be a free man. He’d open locks which were far more difficult. So what was stopping him now? Vin and Chris were leaving town, Nathan and Josiah had not even bothered to check on him. J.D. had turned on him at the first opportunity and Buck; well Buck wouldn’t even notice he was missing. He was too occupied with keeping the young sheriff alive.

Ezra placed the cards in his vest pocket and reached into his boot for the metal tool. Standing, he moved to the cell door and took a deep breath. His mind was made up and he reached through the bars.

It took literally seconds and the door swung open. The gambler looked at the now open door . . . it was as if a voice floated in on the cool breeze. ‘Yer a good man, Ez’. . . Ezra smiled, he could see J.D. sitting behind the desk, straightening the hat on his head, ‘Bat Masterson has a hat like this’ . . . J.D. would be blamed for his escape. The boy striving so hard to become a man, to be respected like all those men he read about in his dime store novels. Ezra wasn’t sure why, but he couldn’t do that to the young man. He pulled the door closed, the lock sliding back into place with a metallic clank. He turned and walked back to the cot and lay down, throwing an arm across his eyes.

Yer a good man, Ez. A cynical smirk crossed Ezra’s face. If he only knew . . . but wait he did know, but how?

* Days earlier *

Ezra had managed to sneak away from the village and had been moving up the path created by the passing of area wildlife. He was sure there was a cave in the area that if found would make him a wealthy man. He had seen the totem that was given to Chris as payment. Given time and determination he was sure to find it.

He was approaching the summit of the small hill and about to turn back when he heard soft voices being carried by the breeze. ‘Tascosa’. . . ‘Heard of it’ . . . Ah, Mr. Tanner and Mr. Larabee.

He hadn’t meant to stay and listen but then he heard, ‘If I wind up getting killed take my body back there. You’ll get 500 for it.’

‘How come you’re so valuable?’

The voices grew softer and as Ezra moved closer to catch the muted words a few small stones became dislodged and tumbled down the hill.

‘. . . framed . . . didn’t do it. . . . bounty on my own head. . . if a friend collects. . .’

Ezra had heard enough and quietly returned the direction he had come.

~~~

Obviously, Vin knew I was there. He knew I could have used that knowledge to negotiate my release. So why didn’t I?

*** a week earlier***

Ezra had felt the thrill of the carefully laid plan falling smoothly into place. The con he was now attempting was tried and true. It had started as a poker game with a table of simpletons. He had not even felt the need to use any of his more questionable talents in order to separate the men from the majority of their cash. However, there was always one who seemed to hold back and Ezra was trying to earn a stake. He had a goal, a gambling establishment to call his own. So when the cowhand had fallen for his ruse he ‘willingly’ accepted the wager.

Standish had noted the four men who entered the bar, the man is black was hard to miss. This must be Larabee and the long-haired man in buckskin’s the ‘shopkeeper’. Their story had had swept swiftly throughout the town. Two men alone, facing down a drunken lynch mob. Impressive. The group showed little more than amusement in his current activity so he felt no threat.

When would he learn to wait until his departure to show his joy of winning? Just a bit more of the stumbling drunk and he would have made his escape. Was he perhaps grandstanding for his audience?

While the small group did nothing to aid in his escape of the sticky situation, he knew without a doubt that he was in no danger from them. He could still hear Tanner’s soft drawl, ‘Nice shot, pard.’ And his reply, ‘Dreadful.’ He felt, no he knew that if needed Tanner and Larabee would have backed him.

Tanner and Larabee, it was hard to think of one without the other. . .

~~~~~~~

The sound of erupting gunfire brought the gamblers musings to an abrupt halt. J.D. He flew to the cell door and debated opening it and going to help, but as abruptly as it had started, the shooting stopped. Whatever hand fate had dealt, it was too late to change.

What if the worst had happened, how would this affect Wilmington ?

The simplest way to describe Buck Wilmington was ‘a scoundrel’. Buck loved the ladies, and they loved him. Hell, most men liked Buck he was just that type of person, loyal to a fault. From almost the moment J.D. had ridden into the Indian village it was easy to see that Wilmington was prepared to take the young man under his wing. If J.D. was the innocent of the group, Buck was his mentor and protector.

Was it possible that just yesterday Buck had come to warn the boy of the dangers associated with the job he had accepted?

If something had happened to J.D., Ezra feared that a part of Wilmington might die also.

The gambler did the only thing he could; he reached for his cards and prepared to wait.

~~~~~~~

Ezra breathed a sign of relief when hours later J.D. walked into the jail muttering. “Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could I ….”

“Mr. Dunne, might I be of some assistance?” Ezra interrupted his young friend.

J.D. threw his hat down on the desk and ran his fingers through his hair before walking over to Ezra’s cell. “Don’t think anybody can help me now. What made me think I could be a sheriff? Reading and doing are two different things. Did I listen to Buck? No, I was so all fired ready to prove I could handle it all myself. Look at the mess I made. The prisoner escaped and the judge is fighting for his life. Heck, I’m lucky I didn’t get shot when I went barreling out of the saloon. Who’s going to take me seriously now?” J.D. turned away his tirade loosing steam, voice barely above a whisper. “What would Mamma say?”

“Are you quite finished Mr. Dunne? From what I have been able to ascertain, you were quite out numbered in the saloon. Even Bat Masterson had his deputies. The fact that you or the Judge were able to emerge alive is a tribute to your tenacity. As for Mr. Wilmington and not heeding his advice . . . I defer to the teachings of my mother, ‘learn from your mistakes’, and J.D. your mother would undoubtedly be proud of the man you have become; such is the way of mothers.”

“What about you, Ez? Is your mother proud of you?” J.D.’s words had not been meant to hurt, but more as a confirmation of Ezra’s statement.

“In her own way, yes I think she is,” the gambler answered softly.

Their conversation was interrupted as Vin slipped into the room. “J.D. we’re gonna need another coffin.”

At Dunne’s sudden loss of color the man continued. “Nah, ain’t that. Judge is gonna be fine, just that Chris figures it might be best if certain folk think otherwise. We got us a grave to dig.”

Just as suddenly as he appeared, Tanner was gone. J.D. stopped only long enough to grab his hat before following Vin out the door.

So Mr. Tanner had not left, that fact did not surprise Ezra.

~~~~~~~

Ezra watched as the card fluttered into the hat currently sitting on the floor. He had been flipping cards for the better part of an hour and saw no reason to stop. It was an inane activity and allowed his mind to wander.

The last he had seen of young Mr. Dunne he had been heading off to a burial. Bury the judge indeed. Not that he wished the man ill, but if they were truly burying the judge he might just be a free man. Of course he always had other options. . .

So why not throw our Mr. Tanner to the wolves to save yourself? Ezra my boy, the answer is quite simply, the man is innocent. Ezra knew that to be a fact without a shadow of a doubt and he refused to turn an innocent man over to certain death. Even to save his own miserable hide. Yet, another facet of my character that Mutha would find appalling.

Ezra had learned to live by his wits, to think on his feet so to speak. He was nothing if not a good judge of character. He had to be in his line of work. Vin was a good man, honest to a fault. If Tanner said he was framed that was good enough for him.

Obviously, Vin’s word was good enough for Larabee also. Otherwise how could you explain that while Vin was accused of murder, he walked free? Yet here I sit for petty larceny. Perhaps more to the fact, why did it matter so?

Yet another card fell silently into the hat as the door opened and Larabee and Dunne strode into the jail. Ezra feigned disinterested, yet was aware of J.D. removing the sheriff’s badge and carelessly tossing it in the desk drawer before moving to join Chris as he grabbed the rifles from the case.

“Mr. Larabee, might ah assume you’ve come to take me with you?” Ezra continued to flip cards.

“Oh, I couldn’t do that.” Chris ignored the man in the cell and continued to load ammunition into the firearms never bothering to look up from his task.

“May ah ask why?” Ezra chastised him self mentally for needing to know as yet another card fell into the hat.

“You broke the law.” You’ve been a bad boy,” was Larabee’s flippant response as he and J.D. continued to prepare the rifles for the upcoming confrontation.

Ezra decided it was time to ‘show his hand’. “Ah know where Lucas went.”

Ezra felt a spark of hope as Larabee appeared interested in this latest news. “You do?”

Finally feeling that he had Chris attention the gambler stood and walked to the bars of the cell. “Yes, sir.” A hint of a smile graced his lips.

“So do we,” a smirk crossed Larabee’s face as he went back to the task at hand.

Ezra felt as if he had been ‘played’ like the proverbial cat plays with a mouse before the kill. Enough is enough.“Well, great, but he likes me,” Ezra stated sarcastically. He was tired of this charade and decided it was time for straight talk. “You try walking in there you’ll just get yourself shot.” He didn’t stop to consider if his statement was solely an effort to achieve his freedom, or concern for the men in front of him. There would be time for that debate later.

Ezra watched as Larabee considered his words, as if he too wondered the reason for the offer. “You ran out on me once before. You wouldn’t be thinking about doing that again, would you?”

With the most sincere look he could muster, Ezra replied, “AH swear upon the grave of mah sainted mutha.”

“Now, you told me your mother was still alive.” J.D.’s words ruined the affect.

“Figure of speech.”

“Figure you’re dead if you’re lying.” The decision had been made. J.D grabbed the keys from the nail and tossed them to Larabee, who in turn tossed them in Ezra’s direction.

Ezra unlocked the door and grabbed his jacket as he exited the cell. He retrieved his guns from the desk and quickly donned the holsters and buckled the spring-loaded derringer and rig onto his arm. Slipping on his jacket he followed the others out the door.

Waiting in the street were Josiah, Nathan, and Vin already in the saddle and ready to ride. Chris and J.D. were in the process of mounting their horses when Vin commented, ‘Ya comin’, Ez?” It was only then that Ezra saw that Vin held out the reigns to an extra mount. Not just any horse, but Chaucer. Ezra looked over his shoulder at Chris, who now sat atop Pony waiting impatiently, before accepting the proffered reigns. As Ezra grabbed the pommel and placed his foot in the stirrup he chanced a glace at Tanner as he swung into the saddle. With a twinkle in his eye, the man nodded and winked before turning Peso to follow Larabee out of town.

Ezra sat a moment in stunned silence not sure what had just happened. Was it always Larabee’s intention for him to accompany them? What part had Tanner played in that decision? Chaucer followed the other animals through town of his own accord which was probably a good thing as Ezra was currently lost in his own thoughts, back to when he had first met the ‘man in black’.

*** a week earlier ***

Ezra stood in the saloon, one shot in his derringer to hold off a room full of angry men. Destruction lay all around and 4 men stood at his back simply watching as he considered the best method to get out of this situation. Chris Larabee was a force to be reckoned with and as Ezra moved past the man spoke softly, ‘First shot was louder than the other five.”

Ezra chanced a glance at the man, not wanting to let his guard down toward the angry room. ‘What are you attempting to suggest,’ he asked, with his best poker face firmly in place.

‘First bullet was real. The rest were blanks.’

Larabee had known, Well naturally he would, the man lived by his guns. ‘Well, sir . . . I abhor gambling and as such, leave nothing to chance.’

What Larabee had done next had shocked him more than he cared to admit, ‘We’re looking for guns to protect an Indian village. You interested?’ This man, knowing that he was a con had asked him to join them. He had left the saloon that day knowing that he would ride with Larabee and Tanner come morning.

And he did arrive at the livery the next morning at dawn, a time of day he seldom witnessed, unless it was on his way to retire after a long night at the poker table. He had the day’s issue of the Clarion in hand. Many would think he had called the article to Larabee’s attention to get the man’s ire. That was actually far from the case. The paper had proclaimed that the gunslinger had single-handedly killed 20 men. That type of a reputation could prove dangerous, placing a large target on the man’s back for anyone looking to make a name for himself.

Ezra had felt the need to warn the man of the slander. Perhaps it was a way of thanking him for not pointing out his con of the day before. He wasn’t sure, all he knew was that today for the first time he was no longer alone, but a part of a whole.

~~~~~~~

It wasn’t until the group stopped and dismounted just behind a low rise that Ezra realized Buck was not with them. He had been so lost in his reverie that this fact had slipped his attention. It was not something to be dwelt upon now, but could wait.

He stood back holding the reigns of the horses as the others surveyed the James Hacienda. The lay of the compound was important to them along with the numbers they would be facing, but not Ezra. His job would be to walk in, find Lucas and bring him to Chris. The others would be responsible for their escape. It all sounded so easy, but as they remounted, Ezra calculated their odds of success. A smile quirked his lips and the gold tooth sparkled in the sun. He’d had worse.

~~~~~~~

The six rode down the winding road and dismounted at the improvised hitching rail. J.D.’s task would be to find some method to disable the group from being followed, and when last Ezra saw him, J.D. was cutting through a cinch.

As if one, the five men moved toward the celebration in progress. Ezra’s eyes darted around the area considering his options. To the unknowing eye he seemed unaware as Josiah and Nathan split off from the group to help carry in supplies. Larabee and Tanner stopped under an archway that lead into the courtyard of the compound yet Ezra moved confidently forward toward a makeshift boxing ring that seemed to be the center of attention. Where better to start his search for Lucas. Looking around the area he noticed Josiah quietly disappearing in the sea of people. The he saw Lucas standing in front of the ring, a lovely lady on each side.

Taking a calming breath he pulled himself into character and with a soft chuckle a smile lit his features. Ezra was now in his element, the con was on.

“Lucas, mah dear friend. You so discourteously left me behind.”

Lucas turned upon hearing his name and upon seeing Ezra smiled, “Hey, How’d you get out?”

“I played poker with that boy pretending to be a sheriff. He lost.” At Lucas laugh, Ezra continued, “Listen, I have something of a delicate nature to discuss with you in private.”

Lucas took the bait, “Let’s get you a drink, then.”

The two men started to move away from the boxing ring, but Lucas companions seemed determined to follow. “Would you courtesans excuse us for just a moment, please?” Ezra addressed the two women.

“I’ll see you girls in a little bit,” Lucas quickly dismissed the ladies, and the two moved ever closer to the arch and Larabee. “So, what’s on your mind?”

“I was just wondering.” Activating the release, the derringer slid into Ezra’s hand. “How big a hole do you think a .45 caliber slug can make?” The small but deadly weapon was not inches from Lucas stomach.

As Larabee walked up to help shield the guns view from the surrounding crowd Lucas commented, “I remember you.”

Chris face held the touch of a smile that was anything but pleasant, “It’s nice to be remembered. Start walking and we won’t kill you.” The three turned and started toward the exit, through the crowd of revelers, unobserved.

They had almost mad the archway when a voice behind them called out, “Lucas, where you going?”

The men turned to face Stuart James. “We’re just going out for a little ride.” Larabee offered, “Lucas decided to go with us.”

“Do I know you?” the man queried.

“All you need to know is there’s a man on that balcony with a rifle pointed at your head.” Chris nodded in the direction of a neighboring building.

Ah so our Mr. Tanner has taken the high ground.

Stuart James was not a man use to losing. “This a personal matter?”

“Not yet.” Chris replied.

“I’ll double what you’re getting.”

As the offer left James mouth Ezra had to smile. The man was a poor judge of character if he thought Larabee could be bought. Chris Larabee was a man who demanded respect and received it. And at that moment Ezra wondered why it seemed so important that he gain Chris’ respect.

“You know, Mr. James there’s some things money can’t buy.” Chris explained. “Enjoy yourselves.”

“Stop him!” James ordered.

The report of Vin’s rifle could be heard as shots landed around Stuart James feet and one snapped the mans cane in two. When the shooting stopped one man lay on the ground injured.

Ezra kept his gun on the younger James while Chris stood ready to take on anyone who attempted to take their prisoner.

“Stop! Don’t anybody move!” The man reconsidered his options.

Just as Ezra’s mind registered motion out of the corner of his eye, Nathan’s knife flew and impacted with a thud in a man’s gun arm. The gun falling uselessly to the ground, as Josiah approached yet another man who appeared to have a death wish. “Nice gun. Can I have it?”

Stuart James seemed to know when to quit, “Let him go.” It was clear that he wasn’t sure how it had all go so wrong, that so few had been able to walk onto his property and take his nephew from the relative safety of his home. “Who are you?” the man asked.

“Doesn’t matter.”

At Chris response they turned and headed toward J.D. and the awaiting horses.

The men mounted the animals and were soon galloping back down the road. Lucas hands were bound and Ezra held the tether leading the man’s horse. However, to the groups chagrin they were soon being followed and shot at by seven of James’ men, and they were gaining.

“J.D.! I thought I told you to take care of the horses!” Chris yelled to the young sheriff.

“I couldn’t take care of all of them!” J.D. yelled back over his shoulder.

Suddenly the report of a rifle could be heard and the bullets that had been flying past the men came to a halt. Stopping Ezra turned to see Buck Wilmington on his big grey ride into the middle of the road and two of James men lay dead and the others riding away.

He watched as Wilmington and Larabee approached. They seemed almost stiff in each others presence.

“Good thing I cam along,” Wilmington commented.

“Good thing you did,” Larabee responded, before turning Pony and heading the group back toward Four Corners .

Ezra was sure that there was more to this chance meeting than met the eye, but it didn’t matter. Wilmington was once again with them and it somehow felt right.

Looking around Ezra had to wonder at the men he now road with. For the past days they had allowed him to languish in jail associating with the likes of Lucas James. Yet when they had walked into that courtyard filled with James’ people, the men had placed their faith in him not to turn on them. If he was honest with himself, he had never once doubted their loyalty either, or their ability to protect him had something gone wrong.

As Ezra road at the front of group he glance back to where Tanner road beside Larabee. Somehow he knew that here was a kindred spirit. A fellow loner who too found sanctuary in this group.

~~~~~~~

Ezra watched as the townspeople came out of buildings or stopped what they were doing as the group rode by. The came to a stop in front of the judge and it was with a sense of pride he listened to Travis as he spoke.

“Now, these men risked their lives to bring this man to justice. I want 12 good men who give a damn about this town to step forward to see justice done.”

Ezra had dismounted and helped Lucas slide off his horse. He watched as a few brave men stepped forward and they were soon joined by others.

“All right, court convenes in ten minutes. Take the prisoner to the jail.”

A group of men stepped over and relieved Ezra of the task of watching James and led the man away.

Travis continued, “Kind of hoping you gentlemen would consider sticking around for 30 days. . . keeping an eye on things until I get back. I’d be willing to pay.”

“How Much?” Wilmington queried.

“A dollar a day. Room and board. How about you, young Sheriff? You willing to take a cut in pay?

Ezra watched as J.D. looked at the men surrounding him, “I’m in, if everyone else is.” The boy was practically beaming. Is it really possible that only a few days ago he was lamenting the disbanding of our little troupe?

Ezra swung up into the saddle, it was now or never. Sounding very forlorn he explained, “It’s a pity that I, as a convicted felon will be unable to lend my services.” He watched Travis’ reaction out of the corner of his eye.

“Well, how about if you got a pardon?”

A smile swept the gamblers face and once again the glint of the gold tooth could be seen, “Where do I sign?”

He listened as one after another the others agreed to the judge’s proposition.

Ezra looked at the men around him, a motley crew to say the least, each flawed without a doubt, but each with a strong sense of honor and commitment. A wiry smile crossed the gamblers face. Mother would be appalled. How many times had he heard, “Appearances are everything, darling,” but she was wrong.

Perhaps the measure of a man was not the way people saw him, or how he comported himself. Perhaps the measure of a man was in who he counted amongst his friends . . . No, more than that, his comrades. Those men willing to stand at your side, to fight for those unable to fight for themselves, to die for a cause just because it was the right thing to do. If that was the case, he was a rich man indeed, appearances be damned.

The End


End file.
